Ethereality
by soumanyon
Summary: It's better to be with someone, anyone at all, than to be alone, isn't it? Five chapter ficlet.
1. My Dear

**Disclaimer**: Not mine. 

**A/N**: Yet another Gravi fic from the twisted mind of Sou! Isn't this fandom tired of me yet? Here we go again.

* * *

**Ethereality  
**

**soumanyon**

**Chapter 1-My Dear**

* * *

Hot lips dragged over the line of his jaw as Shuichi threaded through Yuki's hair. He gasped as his lover nipped the skin where his pulse beat rapidly against skin and insistent lips. He gasped again and flinched as Yuki's fingers tickled lightly over his stomach and Yuki's voice whispered into his ear everything he had ever wanted to hear from the man.

In the dark, it was almost believable.

But Tatsuha was just a little shorter and his hair a little less fine. He was gentler and lighter, the perfect lover. But that wasn't what Shuichi wanted, or what he needed. He needed Yuki's fire, his passion, his coarseness.

His hold on Tatsuha's arm tightened in a familiar protest and the young man's pace subtly changed. His nips turned into bites and his strong grip would leave bruises on pale skin but the moans from Shuichi's lips only got louder.

Afterwards, they clung to each other in a wet, sticky embrace as Tatsuha petted Shuichi's hair and breathlessly murmured nonsense in his ear but neither of them were conscious enough to care. Shuichi fell asleep to the gentle caressing.

The next morning, Shuichi woke first to brilliant sunlight. Tatsuha hadn't bothered to close the curtains again, the exhibitionist. With a yawn, he turned to the young man next to him, still sleeping, and brushed black bangs out of the way to press a soft kiss on his forehead. Shuichi's lips trailed over to the man's ear, teasing it,

"Tatsuha," lick "wake," nibble "up."

But there was no reaction because Tatsuha didn't have his brother's weakpoint.

Shuichi sighed, his fantasy slowly crumbling away and shifted so he could dip his tongue into the hollow that the man's collarbone made against his shoulder. That did it.

"What?" he yawned, a slight grumble in his voice as he shielded his eyes against the light, "it's too early." With another yawn, he snuggled back into the soiled bedding, breathing deeply the scent of the sex from the night before.

Shuichi glared at him, "Pervert." And Tatsuha's content smile widened.

Yawning himself, Shuichi glanced at the clock on the bedside table next to the lube and paused before,

"Shit!"

"the hell…?" Tatsuha muttered from under his pillow, peaking out at the naked pink whirlwind that was rushing around his room, picking up his scattered clothes accompanied with a litany of choice words.

"I'm late! God, K's going to kill me!" Shuichi cried, stopping over to give his lover a short peck before rushing into the bathroom to clean up.

Tatsuha was almost asleep with the sounds of the shower in the background when the door to the bathroom suddenly slammed open and a dripping wet Shuichi stamped out with only a towel around his waist that he was struggling to hold up through his angry march.

"Tatsuha!" he shrieked, holding up something in his hand and waving it at the man, who only blinked and yawned again.

"What?" he asked patiently, leaning back against the headboard.

"These were my boxers!" Shuichi yelled, holding them up both of the pieces.

Tatsuha grinned, remembering the heated rush and impatience that had made him rip off Shuichi's boxers. Apparently, the singer had been too distracted to notice at the moment. Oh yes, his grin widened, he was good.

"Tatsuha!" Shuichi's shriek cut into his musings, "what am I going to wear?"

Tatsuha shrugged, unconcerned as his eyes slipped shut again, "Take mine."

Shuichi thought about it for a moment before desperation made him stamp over to the dresser, fumbling with the drawers before finally finding the right one and pulling out a pair. He didn't notice Tatsuha's eyes slit open as he discarded the towel and struggled into the underwear, or Tatsuha's appreciative lick of his lips as he turned around and the boxers slipped right off his narrow hips and puddle around his ankles.

Shuichi whined in hopelessness even as Tatsuha's muffled chuckles floated out from under his pillow.

Finally, as Shuichi was about to cry, Tatsuha got up, yawning and stretching, completely comfortable in his skin, and walked over to his lover, wrapping his arm around him from behind.

"Stay?" he asked, nuzzling into Shuichi's hair.

"I can't!" Shuichi whined, his glance trailing over to the clock again. He was hours late already. Fujisaki would kill him.

"Call in sick." Tatsuha suggested, hands running down his lover's trembling skin. Shuichi was still wet from the shower and had to be cold. He steered him over to the bed with the promise of warmth and snuggling. It didn't take much more persuasion before Shuichi melted into a pile of goo on his bed and let Tatsuha call in sick for him.

"He-llo!" he chirped cheerfully into the phone, "no, it's Tatsuha."

A pause. "Yep, he's at my place." A roll of the eyes. "Uh huh, uh huh." He nodded at the receiver, "Nope." Another pause. "He's tired. We were screwing all night."

Shuichi sudden mortified shriek made Tatsuha miss whatever Hiro had to say in reply but he grinned as he warded Shuichi away from him with one hand and finished the conversation quickly and hanging up the phone with the other hand.

"Why'd you do that!" Shuichi cried, sitting back down on the bed as Tatsuha shrugged, "It's the truth." He eyed Shuichi mischievously, but the other man completely missed the twinkle in his eye as he moaned depressingly, "You wanted me to lie to Hiro?"

Shuichi bit his lip before glaring at Tatsuha. "You're evil." He commented before settling on pouting. Tatsuha crawled back into bed, pulling Shuichi into his arms, "Yet you love me."

There was silence as his hand threaded back unconsciously into Shuichi's hair.

"No," The reply was soft, "No, I don't."

The stroking continued in silence.

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tbc... 


	2. Existence

**Disclaimer**: Not mine. 

**A/N**: I'm loving the response, thank you and keep the comments coming!

By the way, the length of this fic is five chapters, and we're already on number two. It'll definitely be finished before Christmas, so hang on to something; we're moving pretty fast.

* * *

**Ethereality**

**soumanyon**

**Chapter 2-Existence**

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"Shuichi…" Tatsuha murmured in his lover's ear, still spooned against him and fiddling with soft pink hair, "Do you ever miss him?" 

In the pseudo-dark of the curtained room, Shuichi sighed, shifting uncomfortably. What was there to say to that?

"Do you ever miss _him_?" he retorted softly, stroking the back of Tatsuha's hand and pressed his lips against it remorsefully as he felt his lover flinch against him.

"How can I?" Tatsuha's tone had a badly concealed tinge of bitterness, "I've never…" Tatsuha stopped and faded into a sigh that echoed Shuichi's as he tightened his embrace, crushing the smaller man to him. "I like you, Shu-chan." He nuzzled into soft pink hair that used to smell like strawberries. Now it was a spicy orange and Tatsuha loved it. "I like you a lot."

Shuichi smiled. "I like you, too, Tatsuha."

Silence.

"Good." Came the younger man's reply, muffled by Shuichi's hair, "because it'd be hell to find another good fuck—ow!" Tatsuha groaned as he curled around Shuichi's elbow that was jabbed into his stomach. He winced before laughing it off as Shuichi sputtered indignantly.

It was near noon when Shuichi's whines of starvation were getting too irritating and the pair finally got out of bed.

Shuichi stumbled off to the kitchen, miraculously being the better cook of the two, while Tatsuha was stuck making the bed and changing all their soiled sheets. It was all fun and games until someone had to clean up bodily fluids that had had a few hours to dry. He resigned himself to daintily grabbing the sheets at the corners and edges where, hopefully, they were clean.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Shuichi was happily standing guard over the toaster which he could satisfactorily work. When the smoke alarms finally quieted after the smoke from his failed attempt at eggs had dissipated, he heard Tatsuha's voice from inside the bedroom. Curious, he padded out of the kitchen to investigate.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Tatsuha was standing in his boxers and an overlarge T-shirt, apparently on the phone. "Don't worry, he's fine."

Tatsuha's face scrunched up in annoyance in a way that Shuichi found absolutely adorable. He squeaked before he could get his oven-mitted hands over his mouth.

"What? Yeah." A roll of the eyes. Apparently, Tatsuha did that a lot. "Sure you don't."

He winked at Shuichi waving sheepishly from the door.

"I gotta go, but I'll come over to pick up some boxers for him later. Uh-huh." A smirk grew into an evil grin, "_Hell_ yeah. Bye, bro." Tatsuha put down the phone and looked up to an ashen-faced Shuichi.

"T-that was…" he pointed at the phone that Tatsuha had just set down. "Yu—uh, your brother?" he tried for a casual tone that failed miserably.

"Yep." Tatsuha nodded, "So what'd you make? Toast? Do we have any jam?"

Shuichi trailed him to the kitchen wordlessly. Sure, it had been a month or two…or one month, two weeks, four days, seventeen hours, and twenty-two minutes ago…give or take a few, but it felt like years. He'd tried so hard to forget Yuki that having the fact that they were very much in the same country much less a few blocks away shoved in his face was really a startling revelation.

By the time Shuichi woke from his reverie, Tatsuha had finished inhaling his food and was getting dressed. Shuichi followed him back to his room, his own plate untouched.

"Where are you going?"

Tatsuha frowned, looking away, only mumbling a barely intelligible apology before turning away to search for his favorite jeans.

Shuichi knew what that meant.

For some reason going to visit Ryuichi always made Tatsuha uncomfortable around Shuichi, even though the pink-haired singer had made it clear that he didn't care. But for some reason, Tatsuha always felt guilty about the double-timing, if it could even be called that.

It wasn't as if the little dates he went on with Ryuichi Sakuma were anything less than innocent. The so-called genius vocalist probably didn't even realize that they were dates. He treated them like field trips. They'd go to the movies or to the mall or to a nice restaurant for dinner. Sometimes they'd go to the carnival or Ryuichi's eternal favorite, the zoo.

And every time, Tatsuha would return to Shuichi for a night of earth-shattering sex. Sometimes it was gentle; how he'd act if it were actually Ryuichi moaning under him. Sometimes it was rough and Shuichi's fantasies would be lent a new dimension of realism.

Either way, once the lights were out, it was a thoroughly enjoyable time for the both of them. A twisted partnership to fulfill each others' fantasies. If there was something wrong with that, neither of them cared. After all, it was better to be someone, anyone, than to be alone.

And if that someone happened to look extraordinarily like your beloved and you happened to look like theirs...well, it was a pleasant perk.

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_tbc..._


	3. Killing Me

**Disclaimer**: Not mine. 

**A/N:** This chapter's a bit longer than the previous two; enjoy!

Let me reaffirm that I love the YuShu pairing; love it, love it, _love _it. So why do I put them through so much and keep sticking them in fics where a happy ending seems impossible? -cough-BeneficentSpider-cough-

...honestly, no idea. I should be writing Gravi fluff, why am I doing angst?

Gahh. Please don't hate Yuki. (Or me.)

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**Ethereality**

**soumanyon**

**Chapter 3 - Killing Me**

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It was after Tatsuha left that Shuichi remembered that he had left the music to his latest song at the studio and had to go get it if he was going to get it finished. Unfortunately, a well-timed draft also reminded him that under Tatsuha's shirt that he had long ago taken for pajamas, he was naked. It had been one of those rough sex drills. 

That left the poor vocalist stuck with nowhere to turn to. All of Tatsuha's boxers were, embarrassingly, too big.

That left Shuichi standing indecisively in front of Yuki's door, fist poised to knock and garbed still in Tatsuha's shirt and a pair of his pants which were incredibly uncomfortable to wear without underwear. Maybe he had been imagining the strange looks he'd gotten walking down the street. Or maybe not.

Or maybe it had just looked as if he were outside in his pajamas which was actually half true.

Regardless, he was outside Yuki's apartment for the first time in one month, two weeks, four days, seventeen hours, and forty-eight minutes and it was nerve-racking.

At forty-nine minutes, Shuichi was still debating with himself about whether or not to ask his ex-boyfriend the incredibly awkward question of whether he could get his clothes, particularly his boxers since Tatsuha had ripped his last pair the previous night in a hurry to get undressed. How to tiptoe around that?

At fifty minutes, his thoughts were broken by a strange noise from inside the apartment. It sounded like a dying cat. In alarm, Shuichi knocked on the door. No answer. He tried the handle then. Locked, of course.

Then the sound came again, louder this time and Shuichi winced. A tone-deaf dying cat. Oh god. What if Yuki had gone insane in his absence and had taken to slaughtering cats in his apartment? Who knew what lengths desperation could lead people to?

With a muttered oath under his breath, something about saving Yuki despite the blond not deserving it, Shuichi fished out the spare key that he'd left under the doormat and opened the door, stepping inside again for the first time in one month, two weeks, four days, seventeen hours, and fifty-two minutes.

"Yuki?" Shuichi's voice echoed in the minimalist apartment. It seemed as if his call was echoed by that dying cat again. He padded through the apartment warily on the lookout for half-starved, deranged cats. What he stumbled on was Yuki's bedroom, the door wide open.

Inside was a nightmare, worse than Yuki torturing helpless cats.

It was just like that afternoon, one month, two weeks, four days, seventeen hours, and fifty-four minutes ago. Everything, all over again.

-

_Shuichi had gotten off work early and was rushing home to surprise Yuki. It wasn't any special day, just one of those when you're in a good mood and have that desire to brighten someone else's day. And all of Shuichi's brightness was directed towards his lover._

_With a fancy box of strawberry shortcakes tucked under one arm and a bottle of the most expensive champagne the clerk had directed him to under the other, he somehow managed to fish out his keys from a coat pocket with one of his mitten hands. His tongue stuck out the corner of his mouth, his cheeks were red as the fresh strawberries from the cold and droplets of melted snow dotted pink hair. The picture was topped off with a cherubic, gleeful grin. Shuichi was the picture of cuteness._

_When he finally got the door open, he struggled out of his heavy snow gear, balancing the cakes and champagne delicately on the back of the sofa._

_"Yu-ki!" he whispered, checking the writer's study first. Nope. Not there. "Your lovable Shu-chan brought food and wine!" he tiptoed ahead, ducking his head into the kitchen. Nope._

_Shuichi's grin widened as he reached the hall. Ah. Yuki was sleeping, of course. He'd had a deadline that he'd stayed up all night to meet. Well, they'd have a little snack in bed and Yuki wouldn't even have to get out of bed. Then they could conveniently move to other activities. His shiver then wasn't from the cold anymore._

_But when he finally got to the end of the hall and pushed the door open, his fantasy was hopelessly destroyed, shattered into a million pieces like the expensive bottle of champagne that dropped from his suddenly frozen hands onto the hardwood floor. The fancy box of strawberry shortcakes followed with a crumple as Shuichi stared._

_On the bed was his lover in all his naked glory having sex with the blond Shuichi had seen a few times, his editor. Apparently after getting the manuscript that morning, the woman hadn't left. There was the sheaf of papers that Yuki had been working on, scattered on the bed under their moving bodies._

_He took a step backwards, as if to leave but the box of shortcakes crunched loudly under his foot and he froze. The pair on the bed seemed to notice him only then and the woman gasped, reaching for the scattered sheets to cover her panting chest._

_When Yuki looked up, he froze. He met Shuichi's eyes and suddenly there was nothing._

_Maybe it would have been better if Shuichi had suddenly teared up or went into a bawling, angry fit. Better for the both of them. But he was silent with shock or pain or anger or betrayal or any combination of those emotions._

_Before either had a chance to do anything, Shuichi was out the door. He left everything and ran away from that apartment and never wanted to go back. It was his way of dealing with it—to deny it, as if it never happened._

-

It was hard, of course. Everything seemed to remind him of Yuki. But he ruthlessly pushed it all away and compressed it down somewhere inside of him and then stabbed it to death with the pieces of his shattered heart.

He was finally getting it under control, one month, two weeks, four days, seventeen hours, and fifty-two minutes later when he had to see it all over again.

Shuichi didn't know what he had hoped to see. Yuki crying in misery over their breakup, as he did almost every night in Tatsuha's arms after the monk fell asleep? Or Yuki in a state of drunken despair that Hiro had saved him from the week following the betrayal?

But instead, it was Yuki having sex, this time with a brunette.

Shuichi's emotions warred with him. His heart wanted to break all over again. His mind told him that it was nothing to get upset over. He'd done it himself, after all. He was still doing it. Neither won out.

This time when Yuki noticed him, he didn't turn around, he only froze. As Shuichi watched his bare back, he saw a shiver traveling up the writer's spine.

The brunette seemed confused until she saw Shuichi and shrieked, grabbing a pillow to cover herself. Shuichi smiled wryly, turning around to give her privacy.

He walked into the room, calmly as he could under the circumstances and headed over to the dresser. While he was picking through his clothes with shaking hands, he called over his shoulder,

"Tatsuha let you know I was coming, didn't he?"

A grunt. Shuichi supposed that it was an affirmative.

Finally coming up with a pair, Shuichi shut the dresser drawer, maybe a little harsher than he would have normally but the trembling in his hands was getting a little hard to hide. He tried to tuck them at his sides.

"See you, Yuki." He called over his shoulder as he closed the bedroom door behind him, fleeing the apartment as quickly as he could. Shuichi only had so much self-control.

When he got to the elevator, he leaned his forehead on the cool stainless steel. As the doors closed, maybe it was only his imagination, but he thought he heard an apartment door slam open.

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_tbc..._


	4. Lost Heaven

**Disclaimer**: Not mine. Even though I finally have all 12 volumes and all four DVDs. (I don't have the remixes, though...-blush-) 

**A/N**: Finally gave in and bought the last two volumes of Gravi...

I'm sensing, after that ending, that after this and Disillusionment, that I'll be writing a lot of Gravi fluff from now on. I'll have to reread Dhampir's _Cutting Through It All_ to get myself in the mood for Disillusionment! (btw, if you haven't read Dhampir's fics, please do; they're incredibly well written, perfectly in character, and frighteningly realistic. Just be forewarned to get lots and lots of tissues.)

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**Ethereality**

**soumanyon**

**Chapter 4 - Lost Heaven**

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If a pink-haired boy sprinting down busy Tokyo streets in an overlarge shirt, tight pants, and carrying a pair of boxers looked weird, Shuichi didn't care. When he got to Hiro's place, he was out of breath and panting, sweat dripping down his face and effectively disguising the tears that had fallen in his dash from Yuki's apartment. 

"Hiro!" Shuichi banged on the door, "Hiro! Open up, it's me!"

Finally, the brown-haired guitarist opened the door with bleary eyes to his best friend.

"the hell, Hiro?"

"Funny," the guitarist yawned, "I was just about to ask you that."

"Why are you sleeping at…" Shuichi glanced at his wrist, no watch. "in the afternoon?"

"Why are you dripping sweat on my doorstep and holding your boxers?" Hiro shot back. Shuichi bit his lip, looking away,

"Yuki—" but he was cut off.

"Shuic—goddammit, I said I didn't…" Hiro huffed angrily, "I didn't want to hear anymore about him."

"I know!" Shuichi pleaded, "I know, it's just that I was at his apartment…"

Hiro winced, tilting his head back to look up at the sky before sighing in exasperation, motioning his friend inside. After Shuichi had helped himself to Hiro's shower and they were sitting on the couch, Shuichi toweling his hair dry in his retrieved pair of boxers, they continued their conversation.

"You were at his apartment," Hiro continued with a sigh, "and you saw Ayaka."

It was Shuichi's turn to wince. "Why her?" he begged his friend for answers, "I thought you and her were…"

Hiro chuckled bitterly, "Shuichi, I slept with you."

"Only for a week!" Shuichi protested with a blush. They had later decided that it was too awkward and returned to being friends and only friends.

Hiro continued, ignoring Shuichi's outburst, "Ayaka didn't like that."

Shuichi puzzled, "I thought you two weren't together back then?"

Hiro winced again, squinting his eyes in thought, before finally replying. His words were carefully chosen so as not to make Shuichi any more guilty about their little affair than he already was. Than the both of them already were.

"Off and on." He shrugged casually but Shuichi still inhaled sharply. "Oh."

Shuichi stared down at the towel in his lap, his bangs effectively hiding his eyes from Hiro.

"So now she's getting back at me."

"By sleeping with Yuki Eiri," Hiro nodded, "Yes."

"B-but," Shuichi coughed, disguising the hiccup in his voice, "But why's Yuki…" the rest was left unsaid but Hiro understood. And there was no easier answer.

"Why is he sleeping with her? Shuichi, he rubbed off on you more than you'd ever think. Or you rubbed off on him." Hiro chuckled, "What did you do afterwards? Think about it."

Shuichi did think. And he blushed a very, very deep crimson.

Hiro, Ryuichi, Suguru, Tohma, that one creepy time. Hell, he'd almost considered Sakano.

"Oh." Shuichi's reply was quiet, embarrassed. "But he wasn't the one--!" Shuichi stopped, eyes brimming again like all the nights Hiro had rocked him to sleep, the week after.

"He wasn't the one betrayed." Hiro nodded, opening his arms to Shuichi, who leapt on his friend, clinging to Hiro once again as he sobbed out his pain.

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_tbc..._

* * *

I don't hate Ayaka, really. I used to but I got over that. Still...it just wrote itself in, strangely enough. 

And truthfully, is there anyone who hasn't been guilty of the post-breakup race of trying to get back into the game faster than the ex?


	5. New World

**Disclaimer**: Not mine. 

**A/N: **Thank you to everyone who's read this! I'm sad that it's over, but now I can devote myself back to Disillusionment after this little sojourn into the holidays. Hope everyone had a merry christmas! Don't let this fic get you down! The ending is purposefully ambiguous. ;)

By the way, to those who've noticed, all the chapter titles are from L'Arc-en-Ciel's Awake album. It ends with New World, one of my favorite songs.

-Sou

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**Ethereality**

**soumanyon**

**Chapter 5 - New World**

* * *

That evening, when Shuichi finally plodded back to Tatsuha's apartment, he was exhausted and ready to fall into the monk's arms and sleep. Emotions were tiring and he was beat after the catharsis in Hiro's apartment. 

But when he peeked his head into Tatsuha's bedroom, there it was again. Tatsuha, his fantasy Yuki, in bed with a brunette.

While Shuichi scrubbed at his eyes in disbelief in the hall, thinking that he had imagined the image, a piercing melodic moan echoed through the apartment and he stopped, smiling wryly. He recognized that moan, incredibly distinctive as it was.

So, it seemed that at least one of them had finally achieved his fantasy.

It was better to have someone than no one at all. But it was best to have that someone. And Shuichi was happy for his ex-lover.

With a strangely light demeanor, Shuichi snuck out of the apartment, packing a bag full of everything of his that he could grab from the apartment without alerting Tatsuha or Ryuichi to his presence. It wasn't hard. The pair were engrossed in each other.

Heading into the cold December night again, Shuichi pulled the collar of his winter coat closer to his throat. It was freezing and there wasn't even any snow to make it worthwhile. But the sky was clouded, so there was some hope. What a pity it'd be to not have any snow on the perfect night for it.

As the people of Tokyo bustled around him with colorful bags in a hurry to get home for the night, Shuichi felt strangely alone. His lover and love of his life had betrayed him. His best friend now hated him, even if he didn't show it, for driving his girlfriend away for the sake of their little fling. Hell, even the man he'd used and let himself be used by to indulge each others' fantasies had finally caught the object of his affection.

And where did all that leave Shuichi? Utterly alone.

The Christmas wreaths twisted around street lamps and twinkling holiday lights seemed to laugh at him. The posters of happy families and couples sauntering down the icy streets in pairs seemed to mock him with their happiness. The holidays were a cruel time when you were alone.

With nowhere to go, Shuichi wandered into the park. Be it nostalgia or cruel irony, he found himself where he had first met Yuki so long ago. He found the park bench nearby and sat down, ignoring the biting cold of the wood and iron. Bored, he rummaged around in his bag for something to entertain himself with and found that he had packed one of Tatsuha's small zippo lighters by accident.

Shrugging, he played with the thing and after a few tries, got a beautiful dancing flame. He stared at it until it winked out. A few more tries and another flame. This time, as he stared at it, he could make out the shape of Yuki's face, how his lover had looked in the passionate kisses that they had shared. Then the flame went out.

Shuichi struggled to get another flame to see Yuki again but when it did flare up, it showed him Yuki, asleep, like that one time he'd fallen on Shuichi exhausted after a deadline.

The night seemed to get colder at the chain of memories that single picture caused. The deadline, the manuscript, the editor.

He flicked the lighter again, hoping to drive the image from his mind. It worked.

He saw Yuki bandaging up his finger after a failed attempt at domesticity.

Another flick and he saw Yuki in his monk robes when he had left to marry Ayaka.

Ayaka…

Another flick to get rid of that memory.

Yuki's sad, caring face as he tended Shuichi after the Aizawa incident.

The flame went out and it was suddenly dark again. The dark seemed to swallow everything whole and it was terrifying. Shuichi picked at the lighter desperately with frozen fingers.

Burst after burst, flare after tiny flare of flame shot into the bitterly cold December night. But they were too small, too lonely and no one noticed.

* * *

_"With those smoke-illusory fingers, you've merely begun to call out to me.  
You're just beginning to notice the days are shining jewels cupped in your hand.  
And the world you've longed for has suddenly burned to ash_

_When I woke up from the countless wishes, you are reflected in a shimmering illusion,_

_the silhouette whose faint smile leads me along"_

* * *

fin. 


End file.
